Star to guide you home
by trashace
Summary: In which Kakyoin contemplates life before the final battle with Dio.


Building after building of rusted gold lined the outskirts of town, specks of stars peering out from behind them like beacons of hope to a weary traveler. And oh, how weary this traveler was. Cairo was a labyrinth in the nighttime, all the streets and structures blending together in the inky black darkness. There was a lull in activity down below, but it was noticeably there, with words spoken in tongues Kakyoin didn't understand. No matter how many times he returned to Egypt, he never got used to the sweltering heat that burnt his exposed skin, the layout of the cities that left him worse than lost, and the sinister presence that always lurked. You couldn't see it, only feel it in your bones; a persistent ache that left both the mind and body horribly uneasy. That was Dio.

Even now, miles away from where that terror was resonating from, he was terrified. The balcony seemed to delve into a mess of violets and grays and piercing yellows when he focused too hard on the image of that man, almost as if he could peer into Kakyoin's very soul. When he thought of Dio, time seemed to stop. The world was silent. His slender hands gripped tight to the metal rail, knuckles turning a ghastly pale. His heart pounded painfully, thrumming a cadence in his chest so loud- he could swear the person who had just sauntered out onto the balcony could hear it.

"Kakyoin."

He ignores the voice, as a gentle night breeze sways swaths of auburn hair against his downturned face, which was dripping with a sheen of sweat.

"Kakyoin." This time, it's a little more quiet. Austerity and worry lace the person's tone, deep voice losing some of its fear when the name rolls of his tongue a second time.

"Sorry, Jotaro. I didn't see you." He replies softly, trying to keep himself steady on the ledge and calm his racing heart at the same time. There's no reply to that, only the subtle thump of someone sitting beside him, and the flicking of a lighter. Kakyoin doesn't have to take his eyes away from the night sky to know Jotaro's smoking. It seems to happen more and more often, these days. Wafts of smoke curl around them, bitter and thick and enough to nearly make him wince. Yet, he's getting used to it. He doesn't mind the sting too much anymore.

"Why are you out here so late?" Jotaro finally asks, trying to mask his concern under the appeal of curiosity. He takes a long drag, holding the smoke in for a second too long before glancing over at Kakyoin and quirking an eyebrow.

It takes a moment, for his mind to unscramble and a comprehensible answer to come to him. "Thinking." He finally says, fingers tugging at his collar with uncertainty.

"About?" Jotaro doesn't miss a beat.

"Dio." The moment the name leaves his lips, a haunting shiver runs up his spine, and the thick, humid air turns ice cold. Jotaro's composure vanishes, if only for a few seconds, but it certainly slips and his eyes grow wide.

"Don't worry." Snuffing ashes against the rusted railing, his low voice is barely more than a mumble. "We'll get him."

Yet, Kakyoin isn't so sure, when he stands there on the balcony that night, watching a city of people move about and millions of tiny stars dancing across the sky. The world is so large, and they're only tiny dots on the spectrum, not nearly enough to defeat someone so inhuman. He knows that he is no match. A mortal cannot best a god, and Dio is more than God, if such a thing exists.

"But what if we don't?" He ponders, mostly to himself. Jotaro hears it though, and he sees him struggle. A tight frown tugging on his lips, at the prospect of losing his mother. Kakyoin hears a deep exhale, another draft of smoke coiling around his face.

"Then, we try again." Jotaro finally answers, nursing his cigarette once more. It's a feeble attempt at trying to make his friend feel better, but such things are lost on Kakyoin. He isn't much of a dreamer, his life is stationed far too much in reality, and reality is never that forgiving. Just one look at his scarred and jagged face is enough proof of that. He looks down at his hand, and a shimmering veil of green appears from within. His Hierophant Green. It's weak, far too weak, and he wonders how he's gotten this far. Even with his prowess in wit, power is what rules in the end.

Suddenly, he's broken out of his thoughts by an arm slung round his shoulder, strong and gentle at the same time. "Don't think about losing. We won't go down that easily." The voice whispering into his ear is husky yet smooth, relieving some of his anxieties instantly. He's never quiet sure why, but Jotaro calms him, despite his overbearing presence. Kakyoin has an inkling of just why that is, but he doesn't want to say it, or even think of the possibility. "Just think of going home."

Home is not something Kakyoin often ponders. His small home on the edge of the residential district is tucked between several others, another traditional brown and white in a sea of perfect mirrors. Just like everyone else. Like his modest little house, his parents are almost impeccably normal. A couple that had the one child that was expected of them, and then went off to work for the rest of their lives like any upstanding Japanese citizen. They both had a love for travel, and a wanderlust that would inevitably be passed on to their son when he grew old enough to see the world outside of the rows of little boxes. Their relationship was not very close knit, as they were never home and Kakyoin was always at school, or sitting alone in the silent house, engrossed in studying. Home doesn't mean to him quite what it means to Jotaro.

"What will you do, when we finally get home?" He asks, staring up at Jotaro with a faraway gaze.

It barely takes him a few seconds to decide how to answer that lofty question. "I'll go back to mom. Make her some tea, somethin' else if she don't like it. She's always been a picky ass. When she gets tired of me and the old man swarming her, I'll go see you, and walk to school if I feel like it." There's stars in his eyes as he speaks. Not the fleeting, faint, stars that come out at night, but the kind that linger far after the dawn has broken. He loves her, really loves her, and maybe, just maybe, he really cares about Kakyoin too.

"I can't see why you'd want to do that. I would've thought you'd had enough of me after all this." Kakyoin grins, only a slight twitch of the lips.

"Bullshit." A cocky smile is returned, and the two lapse back into a comfortable silence. At first, he'd always felt a little awkward and intimidated by Jotaro's silence, his desire to speak with his actions and not his words, but over time, Kakyoin has grown to find it endearing. They don't need words to express how they're feeling. Yet, there's still something weighing down his tired mind, and he can't help but blurt it out.

"Maybe I shouldn't ask this, but what if we don't make it home at all?" He frowns, watching the distant atmosphere, of townspeople walking with their family and friends and retreating to their homes for the night. They don't have to worry about life or death dwelling just around the corner, impinging on everyday life.

"What did I tell you?" The grip around his shoulder grows tense, and the cigarette is hastily stomped into the floor with enough force to split concrete. "We're not gonna lose."

"Jotaro." Kakyoin says, a rare forcefulness in his usually calm voice. He reaches out a hand to lay it upon the other's, stroking the calloused skin and rubbing his thumb around the knuckle. At first, Jotaro almost pulls away, his hand jerking as if he'd been scalded. "I'm not the one he's after. I'm only a pawn, and he'll look down on me, he'll try his best to knock me out before it's even started, because he knows you'll be affected if I'm injured, or-" He has to stop himself short. Death is the hardest pill to swallow, after all. "Don't let me burden you, please. Kill him without an ounce of mercy, no matter what happens to me. I may not be able to win, but you can." His faint smile is unfitting for his somber tone.

"I won't let him get to you." Jotaro tried to sound strong, proud as a warrior and just as confident, but his eyes are downcast. His body betrays his words. "You're gonna go home with all the rest of us, and you're gonna go to school. Not just any school, the best damn art school in the country."

"Jotaro, that's-"

"You've got your whole life ahead of you Kakyoin. Don't underestimate yourself, goddamnit. Promise me that." Jotaro's grip is far too tight, his words stinging like a deadly poison that make him anxious and weary and hopeful all at once. Ensconced in a sudden rush of sadness, Kakyoin has a foolish thought, a very foolish thought that makes his already frantic heart pound and his limbs grow weak. Yet, he acts upon it. He leans in, shuts his eyes, and lets his lips say what his mind cannot. Jotaro fumbles at first, his whole body tensing and his lips unresponsive against Kakyoin and his frantic motions. All at once, a steady arm grabs hold of Kakyoin's own, squeezing it to steady himself and pull their bodies closer together. He tastes like smoke and familiarity, and it sends a shiver up his spine when Jotaro returns the gesture, and their lips crash together again.

When they pull away, his cheeks are flushed redder than a cherry, and he can't blame it on the night's heat. The strange fuzziness that clouds his mind and curls tight in his stomach is unfamiliar, but it's a good kind of oddity, one that he wants to feel over and over again. "That's my promise. When we make it out of this battle, I'll... give you another one. If you don't mind."

"A promise is a promise." Jotaro smiles in that subtle way of his, a rare kind of smile that sends his mind reeling. Kakyoin isn't so afraid anymore, not so alone in this great big world, because he has someone to walk the road less traveled with him. Maybe, just maybe, something good will come out of this in the long run. His future does not seem so dim, when he has the brightest star to lead his way.

He doesn't know that night, when he returns to the hotel room with Jotaro, that he will not be able to keep his promise.


End file.
